


Out of the Cold

by somegunemojis



Series: Tender Mercies [3]
Category: Original Content
Genre: Awkward Family Dinners, Bettino is a good friend but maybe a bad son and also person, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26077435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somegunemojis/pseuds/somegunemojis
Summary: July, 2003.Something about strays and funny little coincidences, in the life of a couple of teenagers.
Relationships: Bettino Tahan & Shoshanna Tahan, Bettino Tahan & Sirus Sauvettere, Bettino Tahan & Vincenzo Tahan, Bettino Tahan & Vivienne Sauvettere, Shoshanna Tahan & Vivienne Sauvettere, Vivienne Sauvettere & Sirus Sauvettere
Series: Tender Mercies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893175
Kudos: 1





	Out of the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I'm just posting these because I need to store them somewhere and I've always kind of wanted to put them in order, and this seems one of the easiest ways to do it. If you're reading this, please enjoy!

July, 2003 -- Verona, Italia.

He finally gets her to agree to come over and eat.

They’ve known each other for a year, now, and every time he’d ask she would get that same hunted look, and beg off. _Sirus isn’t feeling well_ , or _I have some business to attend to_ \-- it was beginning to feel more like getting a stray to come in out of the cold and all the patience that entails, than it felt like inviting a friend to his family’s table. The hollow of her cheekbones hasn’t filled out in all the time he’s known her, she still has the sharp wariness of a lone hunter, protecting her cub and clawing for survival. But she seems happier now, calmer. More willing to accept the kindness of others, and to eat from his table.

They arrive on time: 7:30pm, he drags her to their door with Sirus perched on his broadening shoulders. He didn’t anticipate the tense silence-- a Caito Messaggero and a Caito Soldato, face to face in a setting that has nothing at all to do with work. That was a miscalculation on his part, but in his father’s case he couldn’t exactly warn him that the young woman he was dragging into their house was a higher-up in the same damned secret mafia family as him, and with Vivienne… well, he kind of just assumed she would already know. His mother is gracious at least, greeting Vivienne and then doting on Sirus immediately, drawing the boy from his perch with a delighted coo. Bettino’s shoulders relax by centimetres, but his father and Vivienne continue to eye each other contemplatively. His father, perhaps a little nervous at having his other life show up so abruptly on their doorstep trailing behind his mischievous son, and Vivienne with the air of a hawk eyeing its next meal. A way to armor herself, to convince herself she doesn’t give a damn what the Tahans think of her. 

“Baba, Mama, this is Vivienne Sauvettere and her son, Sirus-- Did you make lamb tonight?” Bettino makes a show of sniffing the air and pressing forward into the apartment, pulling the young woman behind him along by the wrist. Vincenzo Tahan steps back easily at the light pressure on his arm despite his bulk, and then remembers his manners. 

“Signorina,” he sounds a little gruff, but not impolite, and then turns to Bettino and lets the warm pride bleed through the initial wall of anxiety. “Yes, _hamud_ , with rice and red sauce.” He laughs when his son excitedly punches the air, and with one last nervous look cast to the girl half his age, he steps back into the cramped kitchen. Bettino’s brows pinch, and when he turns back to Vivienne she very briefly looks stricken. Uncomfortable. 

His mother, bless her soul, stands long enough to breeze close and kiss her on each cheek in greeting once Sirus decides to shy from her attentions, hiding behind Bettino’s leg before darting to Vivienne’s, hiding his face against her hip. Vivienne has to lean down to receive the affection from the boisterous woman-- she barely reaches five feet. Bettino gamely receives the same treatment, and then wraps her up in a hug around the shoulders that makes her laugh before she pulls away and pats him on the cheek. 

“Dinner is almost ready, bambini. Bettino, show Vivienne the washroom, your father and I will set the table.” Within the span of two sentences, her voice goes from sugary sweet to a gentle command, and nearly before she’s finished her sentence, Bettino is herding Vivienne and Sirus through the tiny apartment with a soft ‘yes mama’. 

The bathroom is only a few steps down the hall, and even though the three of them are far from large, they fill it nearly to the brim as they take their turns washing their hands-- Bettino holds Sirus up by the armpits while Vivienne helps him wash his, and then takes his turn last. There’s a tense silence for a moment. 

He finds his courage. “Are you… alright?”

She glances at him sharply, one hand firm at the nape of Sirus’ neck to keep him from wandering around their small flat. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

A one-shouldered shrug. “It’s only ever you and Sirus and your weird, rich boyfriend. You know? And I know my parents are a lot to deal with in general.”   
Her glance this time is one of reproach, as she lifts Cyrus to settle on her hip. “They aren’t ‘a lot’, they seem very kind.” Mercifully, he refrains on commenting on the fact that this may, in fact, be what’s overwhelming her. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed by them.”

Bettino opens his mouth to argue, and then snaps it shut with a loud ‘click’ of his teeth. He’d been close to arguing that he wasn’t embarrassed by them, he just knew they could come across as a little strange, overbearingly nice-- but, well. That’d just prove her point, wouldn’t it? It’s the same, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with being any of those things, unless one saw those traits as weaknesses. 

And, well. Caito Emissary lingering in their cramped bathroom or no, his parents had raised him better than to think so. 

She raises an elegant brow at him and then turns on her heel to leave the bathroom, and he follows sheepishly behind. Dinner goes smoothly after that, the hearty meal enjoyed between bouts of chatter and laughter. His mother had already cut up Sirus’ plate into child-sized bites, and they each take turns cracking jokes and talking about all manner of things, schooling, the family business, art, and life in general. At one point, his father almost pointedly asks how the two of them met, and Vivienne gives Bettino such a poignant look that he chokes on a chunk of potato, half-afraid she’d tell them the truth. 

But no-- another smooth lie, something charming and quaint about how he saw her struggling with groceries and heroically running to help. The way his mother coos over the tale makes him wish the floor would swallow him whole, embarrassment and shame at war within him, reddening his cheeks. It’s hardly anything close to the truth. Vivienne spins it like it’s gospel. 

After dinner is done, he gets started on the dishes with his father while Shoshanna Tahan excitedly pulls Vivienne into their little family room for some ‘girl time’. Bettino is on washing duty. The splashing of the water covers the muffled conversation in the other room, other than the occasional burst of laughter. His father keeps glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as he dries and puts the dishes away, each time with growing amusement. Finally, he allows himself to ask, “Is all that giggling making you nervous, _hamud_?” 

For a moment, Bettino’s only response is a harsh sigh, as he scrubs the dish he’s working on a little harder, and then as he rinses it he answers, “I’m afraid they’re looking at baby pictures in there.” 

Vincenzo laughs, long and loud, a familiar sound that comes from the belly. “You should be so lucky.” At Bettino’s raised brow, he shakes his head and says, “Ah, well. Come, let’s finish these dishes. The sooner they’re done, the less time your mother has to embarrass you with talk of how you were as a child.” 

It’s all the motivation he needs.

They don’t talk late into the night-- not with a sleepy five year old, and a long walk home. But they chat for a while, before Vivienne finally lifts a half-limp Sirus into her arms, and says her goodbyes. Shoshanna jumps to her feet as well, reaching around the pair and giving them a warm squeeze, extricating a brief promise that she will see the pair again soon with all the ruthless cunning of a shark. Bettino says he’ll walk them home, and as they make their way to the door, his father gives her a small, respectful nod, and a polite half-smile. 

They make it down the street before Bettino bumps shoulders with her, murmuring, “I can carry him?” It seems like she only hesitates for a moment before depositing the toddler against Bettino’s back, and they keep walking. 

She seems restless, like she can’t quite keep a lid on herself. He hasn’t really seen her like this in months. He thinks back to the beginning of the night, the tension between her and his father. She probably thinks he’s unaware of the man’s allegiance to one of the two crime families-- the same that Viv herself belongs to, the same he’s been so desperately trying to avoid getting sucked into. He kicks a rock down the street, and Sirus snuffles against the nape of his neck. Words stick in his throat, and come out thick like syrup. “I already know.”

“You do?” She doesn’t sound… shocked, really. Perhaps a little resigned. Maybe he’s projecting.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nothing accusatory, really. Just an idle curiosity from a girl that likes to keep her own secrets. He doesn’t think she’d be angry with him for not answering, so he’s not sure exactly what it is that makes the truth fall out of him. 

“I don’t want him to be. And he doesn’t think I know. So we just pretend.” He adjusts his grip on Sirus’ legs, and she looks between the two of them-- her own son, and the son of a different Caito. Whatever she realizes is shuttered too soon for him to parse, and she turns her face forward once more to watch the street ahead. He almost lets the silence fall between them, but something small and afraid bubbles in his chest. Perhaps the feeling that if it were to start now, it would last forever. So he clears his throat, and asks, “What did you and my mom talk about?”

At this she glances at him again, just the barest hint of a smirk twitching on her lips. Oh, she’s going to make him regret being alive. “Oh, this and that. What a delightful woman-- makes me wonder how she could have raised _you_ , honestly.” He makes a noise of protest, already laughing. “Insisted on giving me her phone number, and insisted I call if I ever need anything--” 

“Yeah, that sounds like her.” He shakes his head, laughter turning a little fond. 

“And then she told me that she had you young, and told me a bunch of awful stories about what a nightmare you were.” Bettino smothers a laugh into his hand, and Vivienne, he thinks, lets herself smile outright. 

The subject drops, but this silence is comfortable. He walks them all the way to their place, and then he goes back home.


End file.
